Leon’s pinky wraps around my pinky underneath the desk. Our hands hang linked in the gap between our laps; his warm, mine cold. Facing forward, I wonder if he’s looking at me. Wonder what sort of eyes go with his… Continue Reading
Lydia chose Thailand because that’s where her four closest friends from Barnard told her she simply must. “The jungle! The spices! The color! The culture!” Their time in Bangkok and its surrounding villages was all they could even talk about after… Continue Reading
Miriam examined the canvas from different angles. Perfect? Almost perfect? What would her old teacher think? Half an hour later, she nodded to acquaintances as she crossed the banquet hall. Then, seeing Tostermann at a distant table, she changed direction.… Continue Reading
Adam woke up late, putting him an hour behind his usual schedule. He put on his designated work shirt and pants, and noticed a trail of brown splatter on the collar. He shrugged. He was an art lecturer, it came… Continue Reading
(in the summer of 2012 the London Olympics coincided with the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee) It’s only money: that phrase had repeated a thousand times in Leuka’s head, but it didn’t help. At least it was a fine summer’s day: it… Continue Reading
“What is art?” The teacher’s holographic image hung in front of a small group of kids gathered in a semicircle. The Detroit Academy for Gifted Beings was a traditionally-minded institution. Parents who wished their offspring to partake of its excellent… Continue Reading
She breezed through his door, ringing the bell like a music box, and tossed coins across his table. They clinked together, flashed gold, and he found himself wandering out of a painting of clouds and into her eyes. “Sky Painter… Continue Reading
Clarissa sipped at her chilled Semillon and tried hard to make sense of the exhibit in front of her. It was entitled “Inside the Mind of a Critic” and it consisted of some entrails, haphazardly arranged over a broken computer… Continue Reading
We are so glad that Roy isn’t alive to see what’s happened to us because, oh my Lord, he would die. Yes, we’re comic-strippy — not exactly the Rokeby Venus — but we are of-our-time, same as old Mrs Rokeby.… Continue Reading